


A Boy and his Tiger (or a Colonel and his Linguist)

by ximeria



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Calvin and Hobbes references, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-12-25
Updated: 2002-12-25
Packaged: 2017-10-22 07:03:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/235213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ximeria/pseuds/ximeria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a little Christmas fluff</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Boy and his Tiger (or a Colonel and his Linguist)

**Author's Note:**

> I swear to god, the bunny hit me over the head and dragged me away... and wouldn't let me leave until I'd written this.

Daniel closed his eyes and enjoyed the flickering light from the fireplace as it created patterns on the inside of his lids. He wasn't entirely sure if he'd drifted off for a moment, but soft murmurs below his ear drew him back.

"On window panes, the icy frost leaves feathered patterns, crissed and crossed, but in our house the Christmas tree is decorated festively with tiny dots of colored light that cozy up this winter night."

Daniel chuckled low. "I should have known."

Jack cleared his throat, not answering, obviously trying to act hurt, but Daniel could feel the smile against his neck. He shifted a little, his back against Jack, both men sitting on the floor in front of the roaring fire.

"Well?" Daniel stroked the hand resting on his thigh.

"Well what?" Jack turned the hand, catching Daniel's in his, fingers twining.

"Aren't you going to continue?"

"Not if you're gonna make fun of it."

Daniel grinned widely. "I just said I shouldn't have been surprised of your choice of poem."

"Then why are you?"

"I... I think it's more the entire idea of you and poetry Jack." Daniel winced. That might not have been the best choice of words.

Jack, however, didn't seem to take it to heart, as the older man twisted a little to get more comfortable, leaning against the base of the couch. "What, I'm not allowed to like poetry?"

"Of course you are, Jack -- I'm just not used to having poems recited to me like this -- let alone poems from comic strips."

"I don't see anything wrong with poetry in comics."

Daniel sighed deeply. "Nothing's wrong about it, Jack." He finally broke Jack's hold, lay down on the rug in front of the fire, beckoning his friend to follow.

Jack tried to look annoyed, but the rather silly smile on his face made it nearly impossible, and he gave up a few seconds later, sliding down next to Daniel, resting his head on the other man's shoulder.

"Continue, please?" Daniel nuzzled the top of Jack's head, watching the firelight paint the gray hair in orange and red patterns.

"Christmas songs, familiar, slow, play softly on the radio. Pops and hisses from the fire, whistle with he bells and choir."

Daniel closed his eyes again, letting Jack's voice and words lull him into a comfortable sleepy state.

"My tiger is now fast asleep on his back and dreaming deep. When the fire makes him hot, he turns to warm whatever's not." Jack drew invisible patterns on Daniel's chest with a finger.

Daniel kept his eyes closed, shivering a little from the intimacy of the touch. Then he whispered along with Jack, moving just enough to pull Jack close against him.

"Propped against him on the rug, I give my friend a gentle hug. Tomorrow's what I'm waiting for, but I can wait a little more."

"Merry Christmas, Daniel." Jack's voice was a low hum against Daniel's chest.

"Merry Christmas, Jack, peace in the Universe and good will toward men and alien beings.

  


* * *

Original poem from Calvin & Hobbes:

On window panes, the icy frost  
leaves feathered patterns, crissed & crossed,  
but in our house the Christmas tree  
is decorated festively  
with tiny dots of colored light  
that cozy up this winter night.  


Christmas songs, familiar, slow,  
play softly on the radio.  
Pops and hisses from the fire  
whistle with the bells and choir.  


My tiger is now fast asleep  
on his back and dreaming deep.  
When the fire makes him hot,  
he turns to warm whatever's not.  


Propped against him on the rug,  
I give my friend a gentle hug.  
Tomorrow's what I'm waiting for,  
but I can wait a little more...

 **The End**


End file.
